


When life gives you melons...

by Princess_Booplesnoot



Series: meet-ugly [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hijinks & Shenanigans, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Meet-Cute, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28359711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Booplesnoot/pseuds/Princess_Booplesnoot
Summary: Summary: You've heard about meet-cute, how about meet-ugly? Reader has tattoos and a tongue split. There's this joke that "bisexual alt girls go looking for a girlfriend and end up with sad, tall and skinny white bois" and boy did that hit home. Inspired by this cringy video of Hiddles: https://youtu.be/WR_ZN0cnWjEDuring a panel at a comic con, Loki notices reader and they go on a date, reader gets railed: top!Loki, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, all the good stuff. Open ending, with a bonus of reader and Loki pranking Clint.
Relationships: Alt!Reader, Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: meet-ugly [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117565
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	When life gives you melons...

**Author's Note:**

> x. I usually fancy they/them pronouns for Loki but seeing as it's a smut-shot, I decided to go along with he/him for the sake of simplicity. Loki's at least 6'4 tall and you can fight me on that. Also, I write like a Tony stan - I feel the need to apologize to Loki stans for that. I love you guys! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

The long line of people appeared to be neverending. Loki was an enhanced, as the government recently had adopted a politically correct term for Earth's non-human inhabitants, but even his enhanced endurance had begun waning due to sheer amount of people wanting a piece of memorabilia signed by The God of Mischief. Loki had gained a considerable amount of fans after doing his part in killing the mad titan Thanos and by extension, saving the world. It turned out, humankind was a sucker for a good redemption arc.

Loki's hands ached where they wrapped around the pen that he'd been using for nearly 4 hours to neatly place his name, written in neat runescript, on various pieces of merchandise that his fans (and wasn't that a strange thing!) presented to him. He used to think that he would have actually succeeded conquering the earth if he had a grasp on how to use social media and his charm; now, he just wanted the torture to end. An involuntary sigh left his mouth when he saw another print of himself in full battle gear being placed in front of him by a reasonably attractive young woman.

"Um, thank you," She stammered, giggling softly, and Loki spared her a painstaking smile, scribbling his name once again. The woman briefly caught his eyes. "Um, you're the reason- the inspiration for me. I became a stripper."

Loki blanked, feeling his eyes widen and blink on their own accord a few times. He wasn't sure if he heard the woman correctly, as the unusual statement made his brain freeze.

Loud snickering from behind the blushing woman interrupted the system error that he was experiencing in his head. It wasn't often that somebody managed to render him speechless. It looked like whoever was in line behind the stripper woman had taken advantage of that. Loki's eyes snapped to the short-haired person, who looked torn between cringing and breaking into embarrassed laughter. 

The stripper left without a word, and as Loki picked up the cursed writing instrument once again, the short-haired person smiled at him kindly. "That was a little weird," They snorted, "And thanks, have a nice day Mr. Loki."

"When life gives you melons, you might be dyslexic," Another woman, that appeared to be the short haired person's friend, deadpanned and gave a cynical side-eye to the departing stripper. Loki heard snickering coming from the short-haired person and quietly joined himself. The woman noticed it, winking at him as she collected the newly signed t-shirt. "Bye," She smiled kindly.

It was a split second decision, really. Something about the cheeky way she addressed the situation sparked Loki's interest. "Wait, you forgot something, darling," His baritone called out to the departing woman. She turned around, confused, and hastily grabbed the standard issue photo that he was holding out to her. With a final grateful nod, she smiled and left.

If Loki's smile had returned for the time being, none of his teammates made any remarks on it. Only his brother, Thor, gave a couple of knowing looks to the Asgardian sorcerer.

The woman in question didn't think twice about the photo that she stashed in her backpack along with the signed t-shirt. The Comic-Con had been full of people and the lines were unfairly long. The sheer exhaustion after attending a 3-day long convention had set in and she was eager to simply come home back to her apartment and crash on the nearest soft flat surface. Upon arrival, she did exactly that, flopping down gracelessly on the couch, her backpack landing next to her with a careless thud. 

Unloading her trophies was a short time affair: a single white tee with a dozen signatures on it, written in what she hoped was waterproof Sharpie; one mug, shaped like an Iron Man helmet; one poster, showing Spider-Man on a picturesque NYC horizon and a signed photo of one Loki. Strangely enough, she did not remember requesting it - not that she was complaining. Free merch was free merch.

The front side wasn't signed whatsoever. Overcome by curiousity, she turned it around. A phone number was written on the back of it, the handwriting neat and the letters obviously being inked out by a thinner, more sophisticated pen than the one Loki had used for scribbling on the tee. The woman gaped silently, not believing her eyes. Did Loki himself had given her his phone number?

One margarita and a hefty helping of Chinese takeout later, the numbers persisted staring back at her mutely, the neat cursive being almost mocking in its quiet. The woman's smartphone had found a comfortable place right next to the photo, equally mum regarding the unusual situation. 

An additional margarita was needed to gather the courage required to actually type out the number in the receiver box. Fruity alcoholic concoction in one hand and phone clutched in the other, the woman's eyes squeezed shut tightly as soon as the dreaded "Hey, got your number today! :)" read delivered. She'd typed and erased the message several times, groaning in embarrassment. How the hell does one approach an alien god?

"Hello! May I ask your name?" The response came after a brief moment - a moment the woman had suffered through by taking too haste sips of her drink, her common since screaming her to not overdo it and wait at least a full minute before replying. Everything felt awkward and misplaced.

In no time, she was sending the screenshots of the conversation to her girl-advice group chat that consisted of her closest friends. Chatting with Loki turned out to be surprisingly easy and he was great at upholding conversation, something that couldn't be said about all those Tinder matches she had had back in the day. 

Even if using proper grammar during a text message conversation was something she had to reacquaint herself with, she was glad he wasn't just another boring, shalllow, condescending-ass white boy. Despite the cultural differences and his lack of knowledge of things like pop culture and music - something he said he was working on since New Asgard became a sovereign state on Earth - they bonded over music and tattoos and generally being rebellious against society's standarts. 

The invitation to dinner didn't come as a surprise for the woman. She agreed happily, looking forward to continue their conversation outside of the internet - if Loki's part of the chat was anything to go by, not only was he charming, but also quite intelligent. And easy on the the eyes, too. They had traded selfies at some point and the Asgardian didn't look any worse in a hoodie and sweatpants than he did in his battle leathers. Loki had appeared to truly have had integrated into Earth's society.

The night of the date, the continuous text exchange did very little to calm her nerves. Loki texted as much as an overeager teenage boy: every now and then he would double-text and grossly overreact to her sending a simple meme. In fact, he smugly conveyed the fact he'd single-handedly started a meme war between the Avengers and even Steve was forced to participate; something that was, allegedly, out of character for the blonde man.

She didn't mind. Not like she had many friends to have so much fun with. Even if it took her twice the time to do her favourite eyeliner style, it was worth it. She hoped Loki would appreciate the bold, but classy make-up and the dress and shoes combo that accentuated her assets. Her date expressed curiousity about her tattoos and the difference between her preferred style and the humans he spent most time with. She guessed secret agents were not particularly fond of anything that made them memorable so she held out quite the hope for... Showing off some of her tattoos in a more private setting. 

In other, simpler words, the woman came in prepared for both a friendly, leisurely stroll and a quality night. Either way, it would be a time well spent.

Loki's shiny, raven hair was impossible to miss as he towered over the rest of the people waiting by the restaurant's entrance. He wore tailored black trousers and a simple cashmere sweater, perfect for the evening's damp, cool air. Tall and lithe, Loki was mouthwateringly handsome.

"Come here often?" She wormed her way through the crowd, causing the man to smirk down at her. Her cheeks flared from the tiny gesture alone.

"Just waiting for a friend," Loki uttered lowly, extending an arm towards the woman, which she gracefully accepted as they made way towards the entrance. "Reservation for Loki," The Asgardian stated to the hostess, who, after a rapid doube-take, led them to a private, secluded area in the back of the restaurant. 

Loki shouldered the slightly awkward interaction with grace, paying no mind to the girl. His focus was solely on his date and he was nothing but gallant as he took the woman's purse and held out the chair for her to comfortably sit down. As a prince, he was taught well, she mused.

"Usually I would ask 'what brings you to our little ball of water and dirt?' but I think we can skip that part," The woman stated with a sheepish grin, idly flicking through the menu and curiously eyeing the items that were unfamiliar. The desire to try something new fought with the possibility of accidentally ordering something too far out - like snails or other things that rich people fancied, for some reason.

Loki's greens briefly appeared over the top of his menu, grateful and sparkling. "I think it's best if we do just that," For a second, he looked away, before returning to the menu. "I can think of better things to discuss. I recall you didn't finish telling me about that college friend of yours, who was an anarchist... I'm dying to know..."

The waiter came and went, barely noticed by the pair, as they both poked at something that sounded the most familiar for both of them. Stoically, Loki admitted that Tony Stark did the booking for him and the woman reluctantly acquitted she wasn't very familiar with upscale establishments, being of middle-class background and working a middle-class job. 

Interrupting the story she began telling hours ago, the woman took the time to point out the things she was familiar with on the menu and advised Loki to stay away from - like the aforementioned snails, and other things, slimy and salty things that she considered to be 'disgusting but rich people liked it for some reason'. The conversation slowly progressed into Loki telling her the mischief he got up to at the feasts Odin threw. The Asgardian shared the woman's disregard for influential people doing gross things to show off.

The food was good - it was really hard to miss with a traditional Italian lasagna - and seeing Loki shovel an obscene amount of food was an experience, but she didn't comment on it, tactful enough to consider his alien biology might have different dietary requirements that her human one. It was great, really, that she could order dessert and not feel guilty about it.

The gelato melted in her mouth like sweet ecstasy and she moaned with her next bite, only partly aware of how obscene really was the noise.

Loki's hand stuttered on it's way to his mouth. Wide-eyed, he stared at her lips, at her mouth, where her tongue lapped up the small drops of dessert from the spoon. "Why the split tongue?" The Asgardian finally gathered his wits, having had a good look of what he was sure was a trick of the eye at first.

She grinned, acutely aware of the effect that particular body modification had on men. "I like being different. I embrace the weird." She giggled, not at all ashamed, sticking out her tongue and wiggling both parts of it teasingly.

Loki's Adam's apple bobbed; "Weird?" He raised his eyebrow, fighting to maintain his previous cool composure.

She nodded. "Weird," She retorted coyly. "I usually don't divulge the details at least until the third date. Wouldn't want to scare my potential suitors off," The playful wink was the proverbial cherry on top. He was hooked, his eyes darkened, following the plump arch of her lips as she took another spoonful of the treat and savoured it, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

It was pornographic.

"Obviously, Midgardians don't know what's good for them," Loki scoffed in his usual bored monotone, fully aware of how fitful his attempt to conceal his excitement was. He sounded needy even to his own ears.

"And you do?" She pushed away the empty plate, chastely patting her mouth with a napkin. The raised eyebrow and the little smirk spoke volumes.

The grin he wore was hardly anything but feral; he asked for the waiter's assistance by flicking his wrist in an impatient fashion. Once the bill was paid and the woman's cardigan found its rightful place on her shoulders, Loki once again took hold of her arm, this time holding her smaller body against his larger one, taking care to slow down and keep his strides shorter.

She found the coolness of his presence refreshing in the moist, heavy air of the New York city.

"Where to, milady?" Loki asked her, looking down at the woman fondly.

"My place is a block away. Walk me, good sir?" She gave a delightfully easy smile in return. 

He nodded, letting her lead the way, allowing himself to get a little bit lost in their shared presence, a little bubble of them in the middle of a busy city. It was as if someone had quickly turned down the volume of the honking cars and noisy pedestrians around them, leaving the soft breeze and the sun slowly descending below the skyscrapers. It felt far too short, partaking in the comfortable silence together, skin tingling under the thin layers of cloth where they were touching.

The sun was trapped in the strands of her hair as she smiled at him from her doorway, worrying her lip between her teeth. It was a bittersweet moment.

"A kiss good night for the good sir?" She asked hopefully, eyes darting between his face and his mouth.

Loki obliged, resting his palm flat on the door frame, towering over the woman as he gently slotted his thin, cool lips against her warm ones. The woman stood on her tippy toes, eager, placing a hand on his chest. The pair melted into the kiss - it had no business being this mind-blowing, brain-freezing for two people that have not met until that very day. The woman didn't refuse when Loki probed with his tongue, requesting entrance to her mouth; she licked into his own with fervor, fisting her hands in the soft fabric of his sweater.

With the hand that was free, Loki pulled the woman flush with himself, feeling the heat of her start a fire of its own inside of him. Her breathing rapid, the gesture only served to tighten her hold on his sweater, until a soft, barely audible moan slipped into his mouth, causing his brain to quickly reassess the situation.

Regretfully, Loki pulled away, clearing his throat. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere," He meaningfully looked at the array of doors around them.

"I thought you'd never ask," She retorted with a fond eyeroll, tightening the grip on his sweater once more, to pull him inside her apartment and shut the door behind her. The awkward moments were few and in between; neither knew who reached for the other first, mashing their mouths with less grace than before, clutching at the other's arms and hips with hunger.

This time, Loki didn't hold back his own muted groans of satisfaction, shivering when the woman's hands snuck under his sweater and the simple tank top he wore underneath. Blunt nails scraped along his abs.

Step by step, she pushed him further inside her apartment, determined in her small quick strides. There was no mistake of their destination; no mistake in her desire: she was as hungry and as impatient as him. The crease between his eyebrows deepened, long arms extending to unzip the top of her dress to reveal a simple but tasteful black lacy bra covering her breasts. The woman barely noticed the action, stepping out of her dress as soon as it hit the floor.

He admired her. Inches of soft skin covered by intricate ink, some patterns bizarre and complicated, some beautiful in their simplicity. Loki couldn't wait to find out about the meaning behind every one of them, to trace the lines with his tongue and sink his teeth into the heated flesh. 

The hands that were holding onto him for dear life tugged on his sweater and he chose to simply vanish it, too preoccupied with looking at the view in front of him. She gasped and her eyes met his: uncanny, magnetic emeralds shone with magic and power and desire.

"Fuck," She more mouthed than said, walking backwards in a trance until her shins hit the bed. 

Loki grinned, advancing on the panting woman with the grace of a predator. "Darling?" His tone was innocent; his expression was anything but. His large hand encompassesed the side of her face, thumb running over her bottom lip in a possessive gesture that had her squirming in her place. He loved the way she just melted into his touch.

Their lips met again, slower this time. The kiss was once again graceful and unrushed, allowing them to explore the softness of each other's skin, mapping the arches and valleys with gentle strokes of their palms. The broad expanse of Loki's back was uneven, riddled with scars and blemishes, and she mapped every single one, blunt nails raking down it as she pressed into him, arching into his hands where he held her.

The soft flesh of her ass, barely covered by a scrap of black lace, was shamelessly grabbed - the woman didn't doubt there would be marks left - letting her feel his arousal pressed against her belly, hard and twitching. She didn't resist her desire to ge handsy and palmed it, taking note of the gasp and the twitch coming from the man occupied with the clasp of her bra. In no time, it flew away, forgotten somwhere the very moment Loki's palms took over her breasts, running a careful thumb over each nipple.

"Fuck," She parroted her previous statement, equally breathy and considerably more aroused. 

"That's the plan," Loki's chuckle was hoarse. 

She huffed, biting her bottom lip before reaching out to swiftly pop the button of his trousers, smirking at the hiss the friction of her palm produced against his cock. It shouldn't have surprised her that Loki was a commando kind of guy, but still, she gasped, partially from the ministrations of his clever fingers, partially from the mouthwatering sight in front of her. The thick, flushed length made saliva gather in the corners of her mouth. 

He must've heard the audible swallow. "Not so haste, darling," He tutted, giving her relaxed body a gentle push, causing her to land on her back, heated skin against the soft duvet of her bed. "Let me taste you," A thud; Loki had dropped to his knees, using his large palms to spread her legs, opening her up to his eyes.

If his previous work hadn't made her so pliant, so aroused, she'd have been rendered speechless; instead, the woman arched her back, presenting herself and the desire that had pooled down below. The Asgardian chuckled, fingertips soft against the scratchy lace. 

"Tease," The woman moaned, outstretching her arm to guide him but quite unable to reach him. She had to settle for squirming in her place, receiving a fraction of the desired traction against her swollen lips.

"Am I, love?" Loki asked her sweetly, caving enough to dip a single finger to run along the outside of her slit. It glided easily thanks to all the moisture gathered there, lips parting easily before his touch. The panties were vanished away promptly, another finger joining in immediately to rub slow, precise circles around her clit. 

She keened low and long, fisting the fabric in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Loki knew what he was doing. It didn't take him very long to slide his long digits to the welcoming heat of her opening, dipping them inside until she began to make the noises he so craved. His mouth followed after that, long agile tongue drawing senseless shapes on the inside of her labia and dipping deeper, where her clit stood out engorged and slick.

He could smell the bittersweet of her arousal, mouthwatering and hot.

"Loki, fuck," She moaned, only half-coherent and partially aware of her own hips following his every stroke, every flick. He only advanced, hitting that sweet spot inside her with every stroke; the sparks traveling up her spine quickened with each time she changed his name like a prayer. "Loki, Loki, Loki..."

He growled, attaching his mouth firmly to her clit, and she arched for the final time, coming undone, squeezing around his fingers and gushing in his mouth, the obscene sounds covered by her own scream of delight and his impatient growling. The growling that sent shivers of aftershocks throughout her body.

"Darling, you taste so sweet," Loki groaned, still panting. 

She took the time to open her eyes: Loki looked comically out of place in her bedroom, he dwarfed her bed and made her feel small, but it didn't matter at all at that very moment. His erection stood out hard and proud; despite the leg-shaking orgasm just moments ago, she wanted more, she wanted to taste him, she wanted to feel him inside-

With unsurprising agility, one swift motion was all it took for her to rest comfortably against the pillows, his throbbing member resting against the juncture of her thigh. She tasted her own release on his lips, however brief, whispering a weak, "Please," aching to feel the emptiness.

"As my lady wishes," Loki's cool breath ghosted over her cheek. She waited with baited breath until the tip of his manhood breached her, exhaling a moan into his neck and immediately wrapping her lips around a patch of skin as he stretched her so sweet.

Loki's arms shook slightly as he waited for her to adjust. He kissed her, soft and sweet; there was something vulnerable in him, something as sweet as the ache he'd taken away. Once he began to move, slow and fluid, all there was left was an all-consuming need to feel. As graceful as dancer and with a deadly precision, Loki pounded gasps, moans and screams out of the woman's slack mouth, kisses turning hungrier and sloppier by the second.

"So sweet," He uttered, relishing in the snug grip of her cunt around him. 

She only keened in approval, too far gone and unused to the intensity of the feelings from a man with centuries of practice and the power of a god.

His thrusts slowed gradually until he was rutting into her, grinding his pelvic bone into her clit. The gasps and screams turned into drawn-out, longing moans; her hips followed his, meeting in a slow, sensual motion.

Loki was not a patient man. He withdrew - she gasped in protest - flipping the woman over on her fours with ease, taking but a split second to admire the curve of her body presented on display for him. Just for him.

With that thought burning in his mind, Loki sheathed his cock deeply inside her spasming cunt. It was nearly unbearably stimulating and only his own desire to prolong the bliss held back his own impending orgasm. That, and his own ego; he was naught if not a generous lover. 

She slurred something, quiet and incorrigible, fucking back onto his cock as eagerly as he was plunging into her heat. The hand he'd placed on her shoulder promptly wrapped around her throat in hopes of lifting her close enough for him to hear the words but instead, it sent a full-bodied shiver throughout her. Loki grinned, tugging her that much closer.

The arch in her back looked quite uncomfortable yet she didn't mind; it was the exact opposite, in fact, her cunt tightened around him, drenching his shaft down to his balls. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his thigh, the sting of pain going straight to his cock-

"Loki, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" She slurred, gasping for air. 

He weakened his hold on her throat enough to let her gulp the so-needed oxygen. It was her undoing: was it the rapid pace of oxygenated blood traveling to her brain or was it his cock, mercilessly pounding against her g-spot - she was violently spasming around his cock, much like she did around his fingers not too long ago.

It felt like ages, her crescendo coming in waves with no signs of stopping any time soon. Loki's continuous thrusts, his hips slamming into hers, her skin feeling like molten lava.

"Gonna fill your sweet cunt with my seed," Loki moaned lowly, holding her up by the throat, the other hand leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the outside of her hips. "Mark you from the inside out," His voice had gone into primal territory, growling filling up the room.

"Please..." The woman rasped, oversensitive.

And he pleased, with a series of sharp thrusts, he buried himself to the hilt in her, the force of his release making her shudder and moan once against, going limp in his arms. Loki kept her in her place until every drop was inside of her cunt. Nothing was sweeter than that.

The Asgardian didn't bother with getting under the covers to hold her, conjuring a soft, comfortable throw in modest green, to cover their nudity. He didn't need the extra warmth but his companion was by far more fragile and sensitive to these things- Loki's fingertips traced the array of bruises he'd left in the wake of their passion, expression surprised as he found the woman smiling.

"Feels nice," She supplied meekly, eyes half-lidded, face trusting and open towards him. 

He gave a small grin in return, placing a chaste kiss atop her head. "Yes, it does, darling."

Time after time, she didn't expect much out if their date. The sex was nice, nice enough for both of them to want seconds and thirds after their rushed first time - but it wasn't like she expected him to hand around. It was a pleasant change from the usual mutual ghosting she'd done with her previous partners, but Loki had texted again and they had resumed their conversation via text like nothing had happened.

No, that would be incorrect. Now, she had a wonderful friend who was a great conversationalist and an even better lover. There was no pressure to put a label on their relationship so the woman didn't bother with it; it didn't seem like Loki cared about the label, either, so she left the topic alone and enjoyed things the way they were. It wasn't like she had a line of suitors anyway.

She couldn't help the smile that creeped onto her face when she unlocked her phone and saw a video call request from other than Loki himself. She still had thirty minutes worth of lunch break to waste and this was a wonderful time to chat with a friend.

"Stark, hand it back or I swear to Norns-" Loki's voice sounded agitated and far away, accompanied by sounds of a struggle; the bearded, smug face on the screen was not who she expected at all. Only years of customer service and low bullshit tolerance combined stopped her from freaking out seeing none other than Tony Stark smirking at her from the screen of her phone.

"Yes?" She arched an eyebrow, taking note of the anger of Loki's tone.

"Hi, I don't think I need to introduce myself," Stark babbled, eyeing her - disheveled and with a wall full of sticky notes and miscellaneous items acting as the background to her video. "Reindeer games refused to show you to us so we decided to persuade him," Tony's grin grew wider, muted whispers being rapidly exchanged in the background all the while Loki screeched "BROTHER!" and various expletives at the top of his lungs.

"You could've, I dunno," She paused, unimpressed. "Asked me to dinner, like a normal person. Instead of stealing, you know, like a thief," The eyeroll that she performed had the team worried her eyes would fall out of their sockets.

"I merely borrowed his phone, don't be dramatic," Stark huffed, and for a moment, she could see various other people trying to look at the screen and by extension, at her. "So, what is it that you do? Because Smurf over there wouldn't..."

"Oops, bad signal. Sorry, can't hear you properly," Her side of the call suddenly shook and in a moment, she ended the call, not at all willing to deal with people that lacked boundaries. Sure, it might have been Iron Man, but if he was planning on being a snooping asshole, she wasn't gonna go down with that easily.

Exactly five minutes after she had clocked out, an incoming call from Loki had her equal parts excited and mortified. What if..? But he was apologetic. And very angry, swearing in his native language - something that he'd promised to teach her at some point.

"So, Clint did it?" She sipped her beverage, strolling home with the phone pressed snugly against her ear.

"Most of it was his fault, yes," Loki grouched on the other end of the call.

"I vote we get back at him. Invite me over, if he's so inclined to see me, and watch him get humiliated in front of everybody," It wasn't a secret she had her own mischievous tendencies. 

"As much as I appreciate your vigour, darling, I doubt the Widow will appreciate you verbally castrating the Hawk in public," He replied sourly, his voice still betraying the faint notes of interest.

"I have a backup plan!" She stated without a hitch. "He'll embarrass himself and I'll be your alibi."

"I'm listening," Loki perked up immediately.

They decided to not to stall and schedule the 'family dinner', as Thor himself dubbed it, for the next available weekend. Loki had made sure Tony's AI had been made aware the trickster would be gone all day, and it took him very little magic and effort to pop in and out of the tower for the five minutes that were needed to execute their prank. 

His not-girlfriend barely managed to keep the snickering again as they ascended the elevator to the common floor where the dinner was being held. Not only that, but the woman spouted an area of dark purple love marks, barely obscured by the low turtleneck of her blouse.

She made her introductions and they made theirs. "This affair could use some background noise," She remarked off-handedly, casting a meaningful glance at the TV.

Tony Stark was known for being a great host so he entertained her wishes, flicking on the huge flat screen with a flick of his wrist.

The team froze.

"I... -" The woman stared at the screen, mouth hanging wide open at the scenes that played out. "... am not going to kinkshame, but please turn it off," She stated in a small voice, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the mass of tentacles commencing erotic assault on a woman's body. 

Wordlessly, the TV shut down, immersing the room in stunned silence. Loki face-palmed, the slap of his palm against his face echoing in the eerily quiet room. 

"Loki!" Captain America, red as a tomato, instantly accused the most obvious person. 

Except, he had forgotten one thing. "Loki was with me all day," The woman replied, unkindly. "Do you need more proof?" She tugged on the hem of her turtleneck, exposing an inch of skin marked blue.

The good Captain's face changed the shade once again, venturing very well into beetroot territory. "Who was the last one to use the TV?" Rogers asked, now with a hint of anger, as he stared at a guffawing Bucky.

"I believe it was Mr. Barton," The AI piped up, mechanical voice sounding almost insinuating. Or, perhaps, it just appeared that way.


End file.
